


the road that leads to you

by malaccompagnee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 05:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21247958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malaccompagnee/pseuds/malaccompagnee
Summary: chanyeol and kyungsoo embark on a spontaneous road trip where things are not talked about until the end.





	the road that leads to you

**Author's Note:**

> hi, long time no see. this is a repost from my old livejournal account. there's some light editing. it never got the love it deserved tbh

“Where are we even going?” Chanyeol asks, laughing. He’s got his feet already propped up on the dashboard, toes wiggling in the sunrise, and hands clasped behind his neck.  
  
Kyungsoo shoots a glance at Chanyeol’s relaxed pose and rolls his eyes. “I don’t know,” he confesses, letting Chanyeol get away with his indiscretion. “But I've got a full tank of gas and my mom's credit card. It’s your call.” Never mind that Kyungsoo wouldn't ever actually use the card.  
  
Faced with this sudden responsibility, Chanyeol lapses into silence, something rare and usually to be treasured. His brows furrow with the effort as Kyungsoo easily merges onto the highway; Kyungsoo’s usually never this generous when it comes to his car. But then again, this whole impromptu trip is very unlike Kyungsoo as well.  
  
“The sea,” Chanyeol finally decides. “We haven’t been to the sea in forever. Do you remember—”  
  
“Fifth grade, where you flashed the whole class after losing your swimming trunks in the sea,” Kyungsoo finishes grimly, though there’s a small smile on his face. “Yes, I remember. I don’t think anyone can forget your shriveled up balls, Chanyeol.” He flicks on his turn signal, an actual destination in mind. “The sea it is.”  
  
The ocean they’re heading to isn’t nearby – as kids growing up in a small town far out of the city, it had taken them a day’s bus ride to get there. Having moved away for university together adds an additional three days onto that total, and that’s if Kyungsoo’s efficient with his time. Which he has to be, if he wants to make it in time.  
  
Neither are perturbed by the length of time they’ll be spending together in the cab of Kyungsoo’s trusted pickup. Chanyeol just rifles through the small collection of CDs they keep in the glove compartment and slides in one of their favourites. A lot of things are _they_ and _them _when it comes to Kyungsoo or Chanyeol, though usually they don’t notice it. Soon, they’re cruising down the highway, Chanyeol headbanging along with the intense guitar riffs and Kyungsoo tapping on the steering wheel in time with the beat.  
  
  
Noon has them pulling over for a quick lunch break and a chance for them both to relieve themselves. They stop at a diner that looks like it hasn't seen a single renovation since at least 1986 and settle into a booth.  
  
It’s everything they wanted and expected. Kyungsoo is leery of touching the tabletop for fear of not being able to unstick his hands afterwards and there isn’t much vinyl left on the vinyl upholstery of their seats. The atmosphere is perfect; there’s a bona fide jukebox playing hits from when their parents were teens, and it’s just warming up enough that their shirts are sticking to the backs of their necks. The menu boasts “the best milkshakes around” – which is probably true, considering there isn’t a thing for miles on either side – and all the waitstaff are wearing tacky Wild West outfits to top it all off.  
  
“Welcome, boys,” a sugary voice greets them as the blondest blonde of the staff saunters up to them. Her cowboy’s hat is lopsided and she’s got a cattish smile playing on her lips. “How are you two doing on this fine Wednesday afternoon?” she asks, but she’s mostly looking at Chanyeol, who, to his credit, only flushes halfway down his neck.  
  
“We’re doing fine,” Kyungsoo answers for them, and maybe his voice is a little raised, but his throat feels a little tight for some reason. “Thanks for asking.”  
  
The blonde – Daisy, her nametag says – turns to him, perfectly shaped brows lifting in surprise. “Oh,” she drawls, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”  
  
“Didn’t know what?” Chanyeol asks stupidly, completely lost. Kyungsoo doesn’t know either, to be honest, but he’s not going to admit it.  
  
“Nothing, sweetie pie,” she answers immediately, smiling kindly, differently. It doesn’t really make Kyungsoo feel any better. “What’ll you be having then?”  
  
“Um…” Chanyeol picks up his menu again, overwhelmed once again by all the choices. Kyungsoo watches him with amusement, already having chosen what to order, and shakes his head when Chanyeol starts biting his lips in contemplation. It’s completely ridiculous to compare Chanyeol, barely nineteen, to one of Kyungsoo’s baby cousins, but the comparison still crosses his mind. “I’ll have… the ‘Wild, Wild Best Bacon Cheeseburger’ with a side of French fries, please,” he chooses. “Oh, and a chocolate milkshake.”  
  
Kyungsoo snorts at the delighted look on Chanyeol’s face at the prospect.  
  
“That’s absolutely doable! And what about you?” she asks Kyungsoo.  
  
“A club sandwich, with no tomatoes and extra mayo. And I’ll just have a root beer.” He offers her a small smile as he hands over the menu.  
  
“No tomatoes, extra mayo. Got it! I’ll be right back with your food!” She leaves with a flourish. The smell of whatever fruity perfume she had on lingers.  
  
Kyungsoo looks over at Chanyeol and is surprised by the sour look on Chanyeol’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern colouring his voice. “Is something—”  
  
“She was flirting with you, you know,” Chanyeol interrupts, a grin pulled onto his face. “That waitress.”  
  
“What?” He looks incredulously at Chanyeol, who just shrugs. “Are you blind? She’d been eyeing you up the second we walked in!” Kyungsoo pauses, and what follows is harder to say than he thought. “If you want her so much, I’m sure she’d be more than happy.”  
  
Chanyeol laughs, then, loud and obnoxious. When he grins at Kyungsoo again, it’s more like his usual smiles. “I’m alright,” he says, “The ego boost was more than enough.”  
  
Kyungsoo kicks Chanyeol from under the table and Daisy gives him a weird look when he yelps and flinches hard enough to knee the table as she comes back with their food. The milkshakes aren’t anything special, and Chanyeol will find bits of French fry in his hair later, but it’s a good time as any.  
  
  
The rest of the day passes without incident. Kyungsoo insists on driving through a town to visit a supermarket – “We _cannot_ survive on hamburgers for a week, Chanyeol, I won’t allow it,” – and by the time it’s nightfall they’re talking about where they’re going to crash for the night.  
  
“We should stop soon,” Chanyeol says as Kyungsoo yawns yet again. Chanyeol’s offers of taking a turn at driving had been immediately dismissed, so he’s pretty sure Kyungsoo’s starting to feel the twelve hours behind the wheel.  
  
Kyungsoo glances at the clock on the dash. “You’re right. Keep an eye out for a motel or something.”  
  
The first one they come across looks about three shingles away from collapsing, and the second looks like an episode of NCIS waiting to happen. Finally, when Chanyeol has taken to talking really loudly to keep Kyungsoo awake, they find a place that looks half-decent. They park quickly and drag themselves out of the car – Chanyeol spends a good three minutes stretching out his gangly limbs. It only hits them when they’re walking through the doors that they hadn’t thought to bring any toiletries or spare clothing.  
  
“Good evening,” the receptionist greets them warmly, though his eyes keep darting back and forth between the two of them with a hint of suspicion. “What can I do for you two tonight?”  
  
“We just need a room for tonight, if that’s possible.” Kyungsoo ignores Chanyeol tugging surreptitiously at his sleeve, because _yes_ he’s noticed the ridiculously explicit painting hanging over the fireplace. He can feel Chanyeol trembling in an effort to hold in his laughter.  
  
“That should be alright. Were you two looking for a queen or two doubles…?”  
  
“Two doubles,” Kyungsoo answers after he realizes what the clerk is implying, cheeks colouring. “We’re not – I’m – just, yeah, two doubles.” A quick glance to his left and Chanyeol is looking down at his shoes.  
  
The clerk, to his credit, doesn’t act surprised. “No problem. Will that be cash or credit?”  
  
“Cash,” Kyungsoo says smoothly. Chanyeol jumps and immediately starts to reach into his jeans pocket for his wallet. “Stop it, Chanyeol, I’ll take care of this.”  
  
“You paid for lunch!” Chanyeol whines. “And besides, I have money! I can help…”  
  
Kyungsoo just ignores him and hands over the money from his own wallet. “Don’t worry, Chanyeol. This one’s all on me,” he reassures when Chanyeol’s eyes bulge from the thick wad of cash he notices in Kyungsoo’s wallet.  
  
Chanyeol drops the subject until they’ve locked the door behind them.  
  
“And where, exactly, did you get all that money?” he demands, glaring.  
  
“It’s not that much,” Kyungsoo hedges. “It’s the money I’ve been saving up over the summer, you know, it’s not illegal or anything –”  
  
“Soo, what the fuck!” Chanyeol explodes. “Are you serious? That’s your tuition money, asshole!”  
  
“It’s not a big deal,” Kyungsoo hisses. “So _stop making it one_.”  
  
Chanyeol shoves Kyungsoo then, but it’s only enough to move him back one step. “Don’t you tell me not to make it a big deal, Do Kyungsoo, I’ll make the biggest fucking deal you’ve ever seen in your life. What were you _thinking_ –”  
  
“I was _thinking_,” Kyungsoo interrupts heatedly, “that I wanted to go on a stupid fucking trip with my best friend. Just because we _can_. And if I want to do this for us, how about you just fucking _let me_.”  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t reply, although Kyungsoo wishes he would. He turns and stalks to the bathroom, and Kyungsoo can hear the faucet start running.  
  
They go to bed in silence that night, each one lying in their respective beds.  
  
  
When they get up bright and early the next morning, they pretend like nothing happened. Kyungsoo grimaces as he pulls on yesterday’s clothes (making a mental note to immediately buy more clothes). Chanyeol laughs his ass off as he forcibly rubs his morning stubble along Kyungsoo’s own smooth cheek, who shouts and fights desperately to free himself. They eat the complimentary breakfast that the motel provides and are back on the road by 8 am.  
  
It’s a beautiful day out, the kind of perfect July day that Hollywood tries to replicate in all of their summer movies. They’ve got all the windows rolled down, and today it’s Taylor Swift’s Greatest Hits blaring out of the speakers.  
  
“Okay, your turn. Truth or Truth?” Chanyeol asks, shoving a Dorito into his mouth. Being confined to a small truck cab and having half of the players otherwise involved with driving really limits the kinds of dares they can assign.  
  
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Truth.”  
  
“Hm…” Chanyeol muses, basking in this sudden power he’s acquired over Kyungsoo. It takes him a whole minute, in which time Kyungsoo inexplicably grows impatient and nervous, before, “What’s your dirtiest kink?”  
  
Kyungsoo yelps as he swerves so hard that he changes lanes completely. “What the fuck?” he yells. “Why would you ask me that?”  
  
Chanyeol only laughs hard enough to start tearing up, slapping his knees hard enough to bruise. “I’m honestly just curious,” he wheezes when he starts to sober up. “I already know most things about you anyway.”  
  
“I refuse to answer that.”  
  
“You can’t do that, Soo! You chose truth! Now ‘fess up!” Chanyeol’s face is still alight with glee as he prods Kyungsoo’s face, who smacks away the offending finger irritably.  
  
“Why do you even want to know,” Kyungsoo grouses. “You’re so gross, Chanyeol.”  
  
“I just wanna know what turns my best friend on. Isn’t that like the start of a hundred pornos?”  
  
“Oh, great, now we’re in a porno.” Kyungsoo huffs and shakes his head at the eager look on his friend’s face. “You know, I’m not surprised you’re so knowledgeable—”  
  
“Stop avoiding the subject!”  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He stares very hard at the license plate of the car a couple hundred metres ahead of him. “SometimesIliketobecalledsirinthebedroom,” he whispers quickly, jumbling the words together, praying that Chanyeol wouldn’t hear.  
  
Which means that of course Chanyeol does.  
  
“You like to be called _what_?” Chanyeol laughs again, and it’s loud and obnoxious – more so than usual.  
  
“Fuck you, Chanyeol.”  
  
“If I say yes, will you make me call you _sir_?”  
  
Kyungsoo glares fiercely and starts smacking Chanyeol with his free hand, ignoring the over-exaggerated yelps Chanyeol lets out as he starts trying to dodge the blows. “I’m not playing with you anymore,” he complains.  
  
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, Soo, don’t be mad at me…” Kyungsoo shakes his head because _of course_ Chanyeol will try the whiny baby voice on him, even though that shit only ever works on Joonmyun and maybe Kris on a good day.  
  
“I’m not _mad_ at you, you idiot.”  
  
Chanyeol brightens beside him, easily placated. “So does this mean you’ll play another game with me?”  
  
Kyungsoo considers this proposition carefully. “It depends on what game we’re playing.”  
  
“I spy with my little eye…”  
  
And so they drive on through the country.  
  
  
The little town they drive through for lunch is something out of a best-selling “Tour of America” guidebook - the exact kind of tourist trap that Chanyeol gets a kick out of because they get to interact with the quirky locals.  
  
Kyungsoo insists that they eat something that hasn’t been soaked in grease, so they drive through the main streets until they find something that catches their eye. Chanyeol points to a little Italian restaurant that looks authentic enough; they while away a couple of hours over pasta and indulge in wine.  
  
“Don’t I look superb?” Chanyeol asks later, as they’re walking down Main Street and through the little flea market that’s buzzing with other tourists like themselves. He’s got an awful cowboy hat, reminiscent of the one Daisy wore at the diner, perched on his head that clashes horribly with his hoodie and slacks, grinning at Kyungsoo in excitement.  
  
“You look like an idiot,” Kyungsoo kindly informs him, rolling his eyes as Chanyeol completely ignores him and turns to haggle with the lady selling them.  
  
“You’re just jealous,” Chanyeol dismisses as he forks over a ridiculous forty dollars for his treasure. “Because I found them first.”  
  
Kyungsoo nods solemnly. “You’re absolutely right, Chanyeol, that’s it exactly.”  
  
“Which is why I bought two!” Chanyeol crows, forcing a second cowboy hat onto Kyungsoo’s head. He’s got the advantage of being at least a foot taller, and he uses it for all its worth. “You’re welcome, Kyungsoo,” he chirps.  
  
“If you ruin my hair,” Kyungsoo complains, “I swear I will end you.”  
  
Chanyeol brushes at a stray lock of hair. “You look _fine_. Even more so, I’d say, with that lovely hat on your head. Don’t you think so?” he asks the shop lady.  
  
“I do,” she says, laughing. “You two make an adorable couple!”  
  
“Oh, we’re not—”  
  
“We’re just—”  
  
They both cut off sheepishly, glancing at each other and looking away quickly. Kyungsoo feels his cheeks flame, and the tips of Chanyeol’s large ears match. This isn’t the first time they’ve been mistaken for a couple, but it certainly doesn’t make it any less awkward.  
  
“Oh dear, I’m sorry for assuming,” the lady says at once, though she’s still smiling, “I hope I didn’t offend…”  
  
“It’s okay,” Chanyeol replies, recovered. He slings an arm easily around Kyungsoo’s smaller shoulders. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”  
  
Kyungsoo elbows Chanyeol in the side later, as they walk away from the stand, which makes Chanyeol flinch enough for Kyungsoo to escape from the arm still draped on him. “You,” he accuses, “are ridiculous. I don’t know why I put up with you.”  
  
“It’s because we look so cute together,” Chanyeol teases. “Where else are you gonna find someone as pretty as me to walk beside you?”  
  
Kyungsoo shakes his head, not deigning the question with an answer. But he keeps the hat on his head.  
  
  
“Hey Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whispers later that night, when they’re lying in their beds at the second motel of their trip. The wallpaper of this one is a peeling floral affair, but there’s a TV in this room. “Kyungsoo, are you still awake?”  
  
Kyungsoo cracks an eye open. It’s one in the morning.  
  
“I am now,” he replies, a little grumpy. They’d had to drive a little more diligently that day to make up for the time spent in the town, and he’s starting to feel the long hours driving a little harder now. “Wait, are you okay? Why are you awake?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Chanyeol replies. “I just can’t sleep.”  
  
“That’s not what it looked like in the car,” Kyungsoo teases. “You passed right out after dinner.” He won’t blame Chanyeol for it, of course, especially since he’d spent the whole day walking at a slower pace and taking frequent breaks.  
  
Chanyeol is silent for a few moments. “Can we play a game?” he says suddenly.  
  
“It’s one in the morning, Chanyeol.”  
  
“No, I mean, just—” Chanyeol cuts off, taking a breath. “Let’s play pretend, okay? Pretend like we’re kids again and this is just like that one summer we spent at sleep-away camp.”  
  
“You hated camp, Chanyeol. You were scared of the bugs, and the dark, and you hated sleeping on the ground. And you always insisted we share a sleeping bag, even though you were bigger than me, even then.” It brings a fond smile to Kyungsoo’s lips, remembering. Chanyeol might have complained a lot about camp, but the days spent splashing around in the lake and hiking in the forest with his best friend had been fun.  
  
But then he clues in.  
  
“You want to sleep with me, don’t you, Chanyeol,” he sighs. He doesn’t have anything against it, of course – despite Chanyeol’s tendency towards flaily limbs and hogging the blanket, he’s put up with worse from his best friend.  
  
Chanyeol’s out of his bed in record time. “Just like at camp,” he breathes hopefully. Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, only moves over to give Chanyeol room.  
  
It’s just… been a while since they’ve done this.  
  
_This_ being the way Chanyeol effortlessly curves around Kyungsoo’s smaller frame, familiar arms pulling him closer so that Kyungsoo can feel the heat of Chanyeol’s chest against his back. The way Kyungsoo relaxes into the embrace because he can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit of home, all these miles away from the city. The way Chanyeol eventually falls asleep, and Kyungsoo follows by drifting off to Chanyeol’s slow, even breaths.  
  
It’s been a while, but it’s still familiar, after all these years. Just like them. Just like Chanyeol.  
  
  
In the morning, Kyungsoo is woken by the sound of Chanyeol in the bathroom, obviously trying not to be loud. Kyungsoo lies in bed, listening to Chanyeol over the sound of the faucet running, and tries not to let the chill of the empty space beside him get to him that much. He’s been sleeping alone for years now, ever since the camp counselor had told them that they were too old to share beds, and he’s been okay.  
  
Okay, except for times like these, where he can see the socks Chanyeol has kicked off in his sleep at the foot of the bed, and he misses the time when he _hadn’t_ been too old to share a bed with his friend. Misses six year old Chanyeol and his quiet assurances about fending the monsters away, _don’t worry, Soo, I’ll protect you_.  
  
It’s not like they’re any less friends now, over a decade later. But it’s different. And it’s times like these, when Kyungsoo relents and agrees to play pretend, that he misses the best friend he’s never lost.  
  
Perhaps this is one of the underlying motivations for their little impromptu trip. Bar nights with their college friends and nights spent in their shared apartment watching Netflix and eating pizza are fine, great, amazing. But the windows rolled down in a cramped cab space, nothing but asphalt in either direction, somehow makes it easier to pretend. To become those little kids once again, when everything was easy and simple, when Kyungsoo and Chanyeol were just best friends who shared toys and beds and protected one another from Things Under The Bed.  
  
  
“Hey, Kyungsoo, remember that time your voice cracked during the fifth grade talent show?” Chanyeol asks, out of the blue. He chuckles to himself at the memory, though at the time Kyungsoo had been inconsolable.  
  
“Remember when you promised me you wouldn’t bring it up again,” Kyungsoo gripes, cheeks pinkening. Chanyeol may be able to look back and laugh, but the memory still stings whenever he thinks about that awful, smug look on Byun Baekhyun’s face, who’d won because of his mistake.  
  
“Or,” Chanyeol powers on, relentlessly callous in his familiarity, “that time you forgot the lines to the national anthem at that school assembly?”  
  
“You are a terrible friend, Park Chanyeol.”  
  
Chanyeol shrugs. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m your _best_ friend. And as your best friend, I have rights to tease you about your most embarrassing moments for the sake of time passing.”  
  
“In that case, let’s talk about that time you threw up on Joonmyun-hyung after downing an entire box of Oreos,” Kyungsoo counters.  
  
“To be fair, those Oreos were good at the time.”  
  
“Or what about the time you called our homeroom teacher ‘Mommy’ by accident—”  
  
“On purpose, I swear!”  
  
“Sandara Park, eighth grade, semi-formal.”  
  
Chanyeol cuts him a wounded look. “Oh, that’s low of you, Soo. That hurt real bad.” He clutches at his heart in mock pain and throws on his most pathetic look.  
  
Kyungsoo shrugs. “You started it,” he reminds maturely. “You got shot down so bad that crap followed you through high school, Chanyeol.” He snickers, remembering the utter rejection that Chanyeol had suffered in the face of Sandara Park: the insanely hot, popular girl from Chanyeol’s mathematics class.  
  
Chanyeol’s bright red face is enough to make up for the earlier humiliation, Kyungsoo decides, cackling at his friend. “It was a good idea at the time,” Chanyeol manages miserably.  
  
“What are you talking about? You were a dweeb in eighth grade, you had no chance with her!” Kyungsoo considers for a moment. “But then again, you’re still a dweeb now. It’s a wonder we’re even friends at all.”  
  
“I don’t recall you being this ungrateful when I saved your puny ass from those idiots in kindergarten,” Chanyeol teases. “In fact, I distinctly remember you snotting up my favorite t-shirt you were crying so badly.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, we’ve already been over this a million times. I am forever grateful that you, tall ferret boy, decided to scare away my bullies on the beach when we were five.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.  
  
“Hey, I also shared my cheese sticks with you that day,” Chanyeol says, sniffing. “And I didn’t even cry when you hit me after I hugged you. I’ve done so much for you, Kyungsoo, and you repay me like this?” Again with the dramatic heart clutching and sighing.  
  
“And yet I remember countless nights staying up until ass o’clock in the morning helping a certain someone finish their stupid English essay, with a total of zero thanks.”  
  
“I suck at English, you can’t possibly hold that against me!” Chanyeol protests. “And besides, if I failed that class, I wouldn’t have been able to graduate with you, and go to college with you, etcetera, etcetera.”  
  
“There was also that time you decided that long hair was a good idea, and also drinking Baekhyun’s disgusting jungle juice until you threw up, too. _You got puke on me, Chanyeol_.” Kyungsoo shivers at the memory. “And I still stayed and held your stupid, long hair for you.”  
  
Chanyeol narrows his eyes. “When did this happen?” he demands.  
  
Kyungsoo huffs, shaking his head, “You didn’t remember afterwards. You passed out in the bathroom and I had to drag your sorry ass to my couch.”  
  
“Oh yeah,” Chanyeol says, drawing out the words in his revelation. He shrugs. “I guess that’s just why I love you,” he informs Kyungsoo, smiling smarmily, to Kyungsoo’s disgust.  
  
“I still say you’re a terrible friend,” is all Kyungsoo says.  
  
  
“Chanyeol, I repeat, I think this is an awful idea, and that you’re a veritable idiot,” Kyungsoo hisses. Chanyeol is a solid presence against his side, with a long arm wrapped around his small shoulders that hold him close.  
  
Chanyeol just laughs and Kyungsoo can feel the vibrations through Chanyeol’s heavy sweater and his own thin t-shirt.  
  
“Come on, Soo,” he pleads in that way he pleads for everything: like he’s already won and he’s just going through the motions to mess with Kyungsoo. “What good is an epic road trip with your best friend if you don’t waste a couple hours at a county fair playing rigged booth games and eating fried everything?”  
  
Of course the town they’re driving through would conveniently be in the midst of its summer fair, and of course Chanyeol would whine and wheedle until Kyungsoo has found a parking spot and is being reluctantly pulled towards the festivities.  
  
“We’re going to be so behind,” Kyungsoo grumbles. “I don’t know if you remember, but we _kinda_ have a deadline to make.”  
  
Chanyeol grins and Kyungsoo stops breathing for a moment, because he can read all that is unsaid in Chanyeol’s eyes. “It’s not that big a deal,” Chanyeol says softly, gently. “Just have fun with me.”  
  
And this is just like them, _so_ like them, and this is why Kyungsoo doesn’t reply, follows Chanyeol.  
  
There are children everywhere, running around and screaming, faces and fingers pink with sticky sugar and excitement. Chanyeol fits right in, even though he’s nearly twice some of their heights. Kyungsoo is dragged to one of the silly carnival games they’ve got set up, run by a bored looking teenager that is awful at hiding his sneering as the two of them walk up.  
  
“I am _only_ going to catch you,” Chanyeol intones seriously, eyes locked on an enormous plush penguin, though the corner of his mouth is twitching from the effort of suppressing a smile. “It’s mine.”  
  
“If you can hit all five targets, you have the choice of whichever prize you want,” the teenager begins dully. “Hit three or four and you have the choice of these,” he says, gesturing to a row of smaller plush toys. “And one or two will get you your choice of keychains. Five bucks a round.”  
Chanyeol is wordless as he looks to Kyungsoo, who sighs and brings out the cash he’s brought with him.  
  
“I’ll pay you back,” Chanyeol promises, enthusiasm clear in his voice. He pats Kyungsoo’s head reassuringly before handing over the money, receiving five darts in return. “I’ll get this easy.”  
  
If there’s one thing Kyungsoo knows about Chanyeol, it’s that the overgrown idiot is stubborn as a mule. They actually go through forty dollars before Chanyeol manages to win the game, by which time they’ve amassed a small army of smaller toys by their feet. And as expected, Chanyeol is as pleased as if he’d gotten it in one try, instead of eight.  
  
“It’s just like you,” he explains excitedly, showing off his prize. “Big eyes. Small. Cute.”  
  
Kyungsoo sighs, not minding when Chanyeol starts to lean on him. “I wish,” he agonizes, “you wouldn’t refer to me as cute. I’m not your girlfriend.”  
  
“Don’t I know it.”  
  
Chanyeol blushes then, looks away, preoccupied with making his penguin dance. Kyungsoo doesn’t quite know what to say back, so instead he suggests they take a break with a go or two on the Ferris wheel. The cramped quarters don’t do much for them with Chanyeol’s long legs, but it gives them something else to talk about.  
  
It’s three hours later that Chanyeol suddenly pitches forward, retching.  
  
“Chanyeol!” Kyungsoo shouts, reaching for his friend, gripping him by the shoulders as Chanyeol empties his stomach onto the ground. “_Chanyeol_, oh my god, fuck—”  
  
There are stares from everyone around, and some even take a few steps forward as if to offer assistance, but Kyungsoo’s death glare is enough to keep them away. Chanyeol’s dry heaving now and Kyungsoo’s got a hand running circles on his back, whispering encouragements and comforting _anything_. He takes out the water bottle he’s got packed when Chanyeol manages to sit back, face green and shiny from a thin layer of sweat, helps him take a few sips.  
  
It’s over in a manner of moments, but to Kyungsoo it feels like forever.  
  
“I’m fine,” Chanyeol keeps saying, over and over, as he tries to catch his breath. Kyungsoo wants to punch him in the face. “I’m fine now, I’m alright.”  
  
“Chanyeol, I swear to god, this is not the _time_ for your masochistic bullshit—”  
  
“Must have been that fried fish ball from earlier, huh, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol says loudly, grinning and clapping Kyungsoo on the back. “Seriously, the crap they sell at these places.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo can see the crowd start to lose interest, to disperse. And Chanyeol’s looking at him again, and he pleads like he pleads for everything: like he knows Kyungsoo will give it to him.  
  
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo hears himself saying, “That must be it.”  
  
He helps Chanyeol to his feet slowly, and dusts them off. They head back to their truck, officially finished with the fair. Chanyeol holds onto the penguin toy.  
  
  
Their fourth day on the road is largely uneventful.  
  
Kyungsoo rouses Chanyeol with difficulty from the lumpy mattress on their shared bed, pushing him towards the bathroom to briefly wash up. They eat a hasty breakfast of croissants and coffee and they’re back on the road. They’ve got much to make up for in terms of distance because of their many excursions, so Kyungsoo’s got to drive through the day and most of the night to make it in time.  
  
It’s not a big deal. Chanyeol spends most of the day in and out of sleep, usually awake long enough to eat, drink, or maybe talk a little. Kyungsoo is okay with the quiet, and finds himself inexplicably keyed up despite the gentle music they’ve put on and the slow, even breaths of Chanyeol’s sleeping.  
  
Kyungsoo finds himself wishing, at multiple points throughout the day, that they could keep doing this. Keep driving, on and on, only stopping for gas and for food and for fun. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, road trip duo, exploring everywhere Kyungsoo’s truck can take them.  
  
The miles fly on as they approach their final destination. Kyungsoo feels like he’s maybe running from the sun as he drives along while it sets in the opposite direction. Tomorrow they’ll finally arrive at the sea, tomorrow they’ll get to watch as the sun rises, tomorrow—  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t want to think about tomorrow.  
  
  
“Hey, Chanyeol, get up,” Kyungsoo prods gently at the sleeping form of Chanyeol. It takes thirty more seconds of this before Chanyeol stirs, blinking slowly and stiff from sleeping in his seat for the whole day. It’s dark out, the night having already mostly fallen.  
  
“’s going on, Soo?” he asks slowly, rubbing his eyes and straightening.  
  
“I have a surprise for you.”  
  
This makes Chanyeol pause, because Kyungsoo is _not_ one to surprise anyone with anything. Nevertheless, he follows Kyungsoo out of the car and around to the back of the pickup. His eyebrows rise as Kyungsoo urges him onto the bed of the truck, allowing himself to be helped onto it.  
  
“So you were talking about ‘the quintessential road trip’,” Kyungsoo begins, settling beside Chanyeol. “And _I_ was thinking, we’ve already done most of the cliché things that other people do in movies and things like that. _Except _for…” He holds up a little remote, smiling, and then points to a blurry mass in the distance. Chanyeol has to squint in the darkness to make out what it is.  
  
“Fireworks,” he breathes. “Wow, Kyungsoo, you weren’t kidding when you said cliché.”  
  
Kyungsoo shrugs. “I saw it on TV once, and I thought it was stupid.”  
  
“So why are you doing this now?” Chanyeol asks, and he’s looking at Kyungsoo so intensely, so strangely.  
  
“I’m doing this for you,” Kyungsoo says simply, and he presses the button that sets off the first of the fireworks.  
  
They aren’t anything spectacular, really. Most of whatever Kyungsoo had left had gone into the collection of fireworks he’d bought at the store he’d looked up in his spare time, and it’s all safe enough for private use. It’s not like Disneyland, when they were ten and their parents had been persuaded (mostly by Chanyeol) to drive them to the amusement park for Kyungsoo’s birthday. It’s not like the Fourth of July, when they were high schoolers in Chanyeol’s backyard, watching the fireworks show from the comfort of their matching lawn chairs amidst their families and loved ones. It’s not like New Year’s, their senior year, when they’d opened each other’s letters and spent the rest of the night getting wasted in celebration of their acceptances to the same school.  
  
But they’re special in their own right. Because it’s just the two of them, on the back of Kyungsoo’s pickup truck, in a field out in the middle of nowhere. Because Kyungsoo shivers as he watches the explosives light up the sky and Chanyeol wraps an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders like they’ve been doing for years. Because it’s only now that Kyungsoo realizes how much comfort there is to be had in this gesture, and how much comfort Chanyeol must derive off of it.  
  
Because Kyungsoo is small enough to fit right into Chanyeol’s side, always has been, and because Chanyeol is big enough, strong enough, to hold Kyungsoo together for the last time.  
Chanyeol watches the fireworks with eyes that sparkle with the light reflected off the explosions and he looks awed, amazed, stupefied. Kyungsoo can’t help but watch Chanyeol instead, and pray that he doesn’t look the same.  
  
  
When the last of the fireworks have been set off, neither is willing to move right away. The silence is even more deafening following the explosions from minutes prior.  
  
In the end, like always, Chanyeol is the one to break it.  
  
“Kyungsoo,” he whispers, and no matter how many times Chanyeol has said Kyungsoo’s name before, this one sticks out, _hurts_. “Kyungsoo, please don’t…”  
  
“You know, Chanyeol, I never did tell you why we were going on this trip,” Kyungsoo interrupts, and he hates that it’s difficult to speak, hates that when he swallows there’s still a tightness in his throat.  
  
“Well, I sort of figured it was because of—”  
  
“It wasn’t, actually. Not really.” Kyungsoo doesn’t look at Chanyeol, instead stares down at the laces of his shoes, but he can still feel the weight of Chanyeol’s stare on his face.  
  
“Mostly it was a last ditch attempt to confess to you. I didn’t tell you right away, because I wanted to at least have _this_, to have at least the past few days, in case you decided you didn’t want to see me afterwards. It’s always you, you know. _You_’_re_ the one who says everything, _you’re_ the one who’s good at expressing yourself, _you’re_ the one who gives and gives so much and you never ask for anything in return.  
  
Now it’s my turn. Now it’s my turn to say—”  
  
“I love you.” Chanyeol interrupts him with the softest of voices and _fuck_ if that doesn’t kill him. Kyungsoo chokes and looks up, and it’s fucking _awful_ to see the tears in Chanyeol’s eyes. “I love you, Kyungsoo. I kinda always have.”  
  
The world stops like it never has any other time Kyungsoo has asked it to, and no one ever told him being in love would hurt like this. Chanyeol is looking right at him and he looks terrible, ashen faced and haggard and just so _tired_, but he’s looking at him like he loves him, and it hurts the most because the look is so familiar.  
  
“I love you, too, Chanyeol.”  
  
  
Kyungsoo drives through the night, speeding in the darkness, desperate to make it in time for the sunrise. Beside him, Chanyeol sleeps. This is it. There is not much time left before their little road trip ends.  
  
Kyungsoo can’t even feel the tiredness. There will be time for sleep later.  
  
He makes it with minutes to spare, and the relief washes over him as heavily as the waves against the shore. The smell of salt permeates the cab of the truck as he drives right out onto the beach.  
  
“Chanyeol,” he says just as the first hint of light begins to appear on the horizon. “Chanyeol, come on, man, wake up.” Kyungsoo shakes him, gently, and then harder when Chanyeol doesn’t immediately stir.  
  
Panic seizes him.  
  
“Chanyeol, Chanyeol, _please_, come on, you can’t miss this, come on, we made it, Chanyeol!” he yells, and he’s shaking without abandon. “Wake up, Chanyeol!”  
  
He almost cries in relief when Chanyeol’s eyes flutter, and then they’re opening, and Kyungsoo is breathless.  
  
“Kyungsoo, what…?” he trails off weakly, disconcerted, but then he catches sight of the view in front of him and, like Kyungsoo, he is breathless.  
  
The sun rises slowly but surely on the horizon of the sea that they’d gone to all those years ago, the sea where they’d first become friends, the sea where they’d returned to a couple years later as best friends. The sea that they’d come to now, still friends, still best friends, but also something more.  
  
Chanyeol holds out for most of it before his eyes start to close again. Kyungsoo holds out for only seconds more, long enough to send a single text, before his own eyes close. The rest can wait for later. For now, all that matters is that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo's Road Trip has officially ended.


End file.
